August 16 [c.l & p.g]

𝐨𝐧𝐞

┌────────────┐
moving on in time and taking
more from everything that
ends
└────────────┘

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 ˖*°࿐

𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝐧𝐝.

If someone had asked me where I would be in a year's time this time last year, I wouldn't have even considered the last train to Monaco. My apartment in Paris stood as it was with furniture waiting to be lounged upon, ridden of all the clothes and essentials I could fit into two suitcases. The thought of selling was incomprehensible; it wouldn't be long until I was back. This thing–holiday–was only temporary.

I wasn't counting down the days, but I was looking forward to getting back to work. Genie and I had scheduled a last minute meeting with our employees, despite the holiday they were on, and they promised they could handle this. And it wasn't like I was completely off the grid; in fact it took every ounce of control and willpower I could manage to keep my laptop in my bag.

I could do this.

A holiday, a fresh start. This was meant to be easy.

How much of a tight ass would it make me if I couldn't?

My limbs were aching by the time the train pulled into the station. I could hardly stand without feeling the wobble of my legs.

Despite being on a train platform, the air felt lighter here. The memory of salty air kissed my cheeks, followed by the melodic laughter of my family from days spent on the boat. Back when my mother could stand on her own feet, and my father would teach me to steer with his hands over mine and body pressed against me. I could feel him faintly, watching over me.

In my memories, he lived on, offering his helping hand when I needed him most.

I realised now, standing here amongst the bustling crowd, I had been an idiot to erase this place from my memory. Through everything, my heart remained here, rooted firmly in this soil.

If there was one thing I knew with absolute certainty, it was that my heart will forever belong to Monaco.

When the crowd began to dissipate, people returning to the warm embrace of their loved ones, my eyes scanned the platform. I needed to see him, my chest burned for him. It was too loud here to call him, he wouldn't hear me, and there was no way in hell I was going to stand here yelling into my phone when hundreds of people filtered through the platform. I'll save myself the embarrassment for another day.

So instead, I stood there, scanning the room, turning in slow circles.

Time stilled. He was there. Nothing mattered except the way he looked at me. If it was anything like the relieved droop of my own features, I was all that mattered to him.

Even after all this time, one look from Charles made me feel infinite.

In person, he was more handsome than I remembered.

It can't have been that long since I'd seen him, right?

But in all fairness, for the past three years I'd been lost to my own selfishness. Now, none of that mattered. Shameless be damned, I'd given my life away when I should have been here.

Charles wrapped me in his arms and I felt like I was truly home. God, he was so strong. My ribs squeezed impossibly tight. One of his hands came to the back of my neck, buried in my hair, and his fingers worked in soothing circles to smooth my strained muscles.